It had to happen sooner or later.
Ran into the ex last night at a happy hour/Haiti fund-raiser at a local bar we used to go to together.
I hadn't seen him in about six months, nor heard so much as a peep from him (well, OK, maybe a peep, literally -- a one-line e-mail wishing me happy birthday, a signed Christmas card, etc.).
We chatted briefly, engaging in a shallow conversation, before each of us moved off to socialize with different sets of people at the party.
And, even though we both have definitely moved on, it was much harder than I imagined it would be. Not so much wanting him back; but I guess maybe more the sense of rejection, that he seems so unconcerned with me and how I'm doing. (Of course that's the ego talking, the wish that I at least meant something significant to him from our time together!)
I've come to realize that what I miss the most is the partnership, having someone in your life to truly count on and share things with, to hang out with, to go places with, to consult with, to argue with, to make love with. I was seeking that (in the form of a long-term commitment), while he really wasn't -- and that's what ultimately drove us apart.
Yes, I've moved on. But that doesn't mean I'm immune from looking backward, wistfully, every once in awhile.